March 19, 2026.
The sun reflected off the glass of the skyscraper, blinding Well for a moment. Well stood at the entrance of the towering skyscraper, his fingers trembling as he adjusted his silk tie for the tenth time. This was his first time working as a Senior Project Manager.
This was the result of years of overtime and sleepless nights. Well had also willingly given up his free time to secure this position.
"Wow." Well yawned and stepped into the large lobby. The air inside was filled with the scent of expensive cologne and fresh floor wax. All around him, he saw men in tailored suits hurrying by. Their footsteps echoed on the polished marble. He felt like a soldier entering the battlefield. "Calm down. You've handled bigger things before," he whispered, wiping his damp palms on his pants.
He hurried up to the 15th floor. As soon as the elevator doors opened, the high-pitched hum of a multimillion-dollar corporation greeted him. Farah from HR was waiting, her eyes scanning her tablet. She gave him a professional but distant smile.
"Welcome, Well. You're right on time. Next, let's go to the main boardroom immediately. The board has held an emergency briefing. A new chairman will be arriving today to take over operations," Farah said.
"Okay." Well nodded. Farah walked so fast that Well had to double his pace to keep up.
As they walked through the open office, Well felt the curious gazes of his new colleagues. Some looked at him respectfully. Some looked coldly but he ignored them, his mind already racing with project deadlines and budget reports. But as soon as they reached the heavy oak doors of the boardroom, the atmosphere changed. The air became heavy and tense.
The double doors opened.
Click. Click. Click.
The sharp sound of high heels echoed through the silence of the room, hitting the marble floor like a rhythmic, predatory heartbeat. All conversation stopped immediately. The senior directors, men twice Well's age, stood tall. Well turned, expecting to see a gray-haired corporate tycoon.
His heart stopped. His lungs suddenly refused to take in oxygen.
Because standing there, in a sharp black blazer that hugged his curves with deadly precision, was Vivian Zhang. Her long, dark hair was pulled back into a sleek, cool ponytail. Her face was an elegant, cold masterpiece.
"Huh, I know, but it can't be him?" Well whispered to himself, scratching his head.
Vivian walked toward the head of the long mahogany desk, her gaze sweeping across the room like a cold winter breeze. When her eyes finally met Well's. Well, there was no spark of recognition, no warmth or anger. Just the vast, terrifying emptiness of professional indifference.
"From this moment on," Vivian's voice came, clear and authoritative, "I am the CEO of this firm. My rules are simple: absolute discipline, maximum profit, and zero emotion. If you can't handle the pressure, my secretary will prepare a letter of resignation for you."
The room was silent. It felt as if the floor beneath her was tilted.
Vivian stared straight at him, her eyes as sharp as shards of glass. "Sir. Okay, I've reviewed your file. I believe you are our new Senior Manager. I expect your first project audit on my desk at 5 p.m. sharp. Don't be late, or I won't tolerate excuses from my staff." "Okay ma'am," Well nodded slowly.
The meeting ended as quickly as it had begun. The directors scrambled to follow her out.
As Vivian walked past, the scent of jasmine perfume she was used to smelling was almost the same. The scent she had always smelled when she was with her ex-wife was the one that had gotten her divorced.
"Aihh..." Well sighed as he sat in his new office chair, staring blankly at the dark computer screen. His hands were shaking. He had come here to rebuild his career, to start a new life away from the ruins of his marriage. But the new CEO who had stared at him just now seemed familiar.
Well looked at the clock. 9:45 am. He had seven hours before he had to face him again in his private office. Seven hours to figure out how to survive working so that he wouldn't fail on his first day on the job. If he was fired today, all his hard work to work there would be in vain. But he couldn't focus on doing the work he was told to do earlier. After a few minutes, he finally started doing his assignment.
Time passed quickly. The clock showed 12:10 pm, then he managed to finish the assignment. He then checked again to see if there were any mistakes made on his assignment.
"Fuhhh...finally half done" Well sighed as he stretched his limbs after sitting for a long time completing the assignment. He walked to the cafeteria to fill his hungry stomach.
The wall clock in the cafeteria ticked slowly, every second felt heavier than usual.
Well sat in the corner, only ordering a black coffee that was getting colder in his hand. He didn't even touch the food he had bought earlier. His mind was confused between the audit report that needed to be perfect, and Vivian's face that was still fresh in his memory.
"It can't be a coincidence..." he whispered softly.
Three years.
For three years since he signed the divorce papers without looking back. Three years he tried to forget the woman who had been everything to him... and now the shadow of that woman appeared again as the CEO, as his boss.
"But...it's impossible."
Well bit his lip. His hand gripped the coffee cup a little tighter.
"If it's not her, then why does my chest feel tight"?
1:05 in the afternoon.
Well returned to his desk. The computer screen still displayed the audit report he had completed. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
"Focus. This isn't about her. This is about work."
However, every time he reread the report, his mind wandered.
The way Vivian stood. The tone of her voice. The way she looked, completely emotionless.
That might not be Vivian. That might be someone whose name and face were almost identical to his wife.
Vivian used to giggle when he made stupid jokes. Vivian would get angry when he forgot to eat. Vivian would...
Well stopped typing.
Her fingers stiffened on the keyboard.
"Enough."
She shook her head hard, as if trying to push the memory out of her head. She opened another file, checking the numbers, correcting the formatting, making sure every detail was perfect.
2:10 p.m.
The office was starting to get a little quiet. Many of the employees hadn't returned from lunch yet. The sound of keyboards and printers became a monotonous background.
Well stood up, carrying his file to the printer.
"New manager, huh?"
A voice greeted from behind.
Well turned around.
A man in his late 30s, with thin glasses and a wry smile, stood leaning against a nearby desk.
"I'm Arman. Head of finance."
"Well," he replied simply, extending his hand.
Arman greeted him, but his grip was loose, as if it were just a formality.
"Be careful with the new CEO," Arman said slowly, looking around before moving a little closer. "He's not the type to give second chances."
Well raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
Arman smiled faintly. "In the first two weeks he took over the old company, he fired almost half the management."
Well's steps stopped.
"And all of that," Arman continued, "wasn't because they were incompetent… but because they weren't 'good enough' for his standards."
Well fell silent.
"But you seemed calm in the meeting," Arman patted Well lightly on the shoulder. "It's rare for someone to remain steady when he looks at you like that."
If you knew who he really was… Well thought silently.
"Thanks for the advice," he finally replied.
Arman just nodded before walking away.
2:45 PM.
Well returned to his desk. The audit report was printed, neatly arranged in a black file.
He looked at the clock.
Two hours and fifteen minutes left.
His heart began to beat faster.
Well leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.
2:58 PM.
The phone on his desk suddenly rang, breaking the silence.
Well flinched.
He immediately picked up.
"Hello, Well speaking."
The voice on the other end of the line was calm… cold… and very familiar.
"Come into my office. Now."
Click.
The line died.
Well was frozen.
His eyes slowly shifted to the clock.
3:00 PM.
He swallowed.
"…Two o'clock?"
His hand clutched the file tightly. When he arrived at Vivian's office door, there was a knock on the door.
Knock…knock.
"Come in."
The voice was almost the same as his ex-wife's. Well then opened the door and stepped in. He didn't forget to close the door. He then handed over the assignment file he had completed.
Vivian flipped through one slowly until it was finished.
"Good, there was no mistake. You can go out and come back early," he said with a smile.
"Good."
Before leaving, Well saw a golden yellow handkerchief that was almost the same as the one he had given his wife before. Well paused for a moment. The color... Vivian's favorite color. The embroidery pattern on the corner looked very similar to the gift he had given her three years ago. "Is that just a coincidence?" Well whispered.
Then he stepped out and packed his things and stepped out.
"Uh, go back early" said a staff member.
"Yes, my assignment is finished and has been reviewed by the boss. He said I can go back early."
"Oh okay."
Well also stepped out of the building. However, what made him wonder was Vivian and the handkerchief.
Is the woman really Well's ex-wife, or just a much more successful doppelganger?